


Ejection

by 3rdgenderfromthesun



Series: Truckers Verse [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Stiles, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Mirror Universe, Other, Prostitute Stiles Stilinski, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgenderfromthesun/pseuds/3rdgenderfromthesun
Summary: Derek wakes covered in blood and glass to find the world around him changed. He begs to wake up only to find that reality is worse than the nightmares he thought he was having.This is a nightmare I had about my own story. Thankfully I won't be continuing the story line, but if you wanted to see Derek and Stiles with kids here's an almost-option. Otherwise, this is a divergence from the original story line just like the PWP earlier was. Heed the tags. Check em or regret em.





	1. Chapter 1

Ejection: a term that made any trucker’s stomach clench when heard over the CB. During an accident a trucker or their passenger could be thrown from the vehicle. The likelihood of being thrown clear can be fairly high, but the chance of getting crushed beneath a vehicle, especially if another is involved…

Derek woke in the bracken on the side of the road with a piece of metal imbedded in his thigh. He jerked it out without considering a major artery location or if it would heal fast enough. He was moving on instinct and not all instincts revolved around self preservation. It was dark and raining, the water washing the blood from his hair as his head injury rapidly healed. He struggled to his feet, pain lancing through his body as he scrabbled at his blood-and-mud-covered-eyes so he could see. Glass crunched beneath his feet as he reached the blacktop and cast about frantically, searching the wreck with all senses.

“Stiles?!” Derek croaked out, the word coming out as an almost scream of terror, “STILES!!”

The truck was on its side, the wreckage far from where Derek had landed. He couldn’t recall the accident, but he knew that was common. That didn’t stop him from wracking his brain for an answer. Had he been driving? Had Stiles? Had he fallen asleep? Had it been a load of Dead Head, and the accident purely a statistical likelihood based on the sharp turns on the way into Beacon Hills and the rainy conditions? Was there another vehicle involved? Derek reached Roscoe’s front and smelled blood, balking instantly. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t find Stiles’ mangled body somewhere inside or underneath. Not alone. Derek reeled back from the shredded metal and screamed for help at the top of his lungs, hands dragging along his hair and gripping the back of his neck.

_This can’t be happening._

_This can’t be happening._

_It isn’t real._

_Stiles._

_WAKE ME UP!_

“Easy, Derek,” A soft voice insisted, and Derek spun around, staggering on his still healing leg as his eyes met Scott’s, “Easy, it’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of you. We’ve got someone lined up, okay? You’re going to be safe.”

Scott was approaching him with hands raised, eyebrows up, a soft smile on his lips. It made no sense and Derek was instantly wary, dancing back on anxious legs as he put a hand out and touched the hood of the destroyed truck.

“Stiles…” Derek panted out, heart hammering painfully in his chest.

“Stiles is fine,” Scott stated, “We made sure it was just you and Peter in the truck.”

“Peter?” Derek asked, “My uncle?”

Emboldened that Stiles was _safe_ , he moved around to the shattered gap where the windshield had once been and peered inside. A mangled, bloody arm was twitching from beneath the wreck. Peter- or whoever had been driving with him- was crushed beneath the truck as he’d tearfully suspected. Derek put a hand over his mouth and took several steps back, trying not to sick all over himself.

“He looks weird, dude,” Isaac’s voice whispered, voice still too loud in the abating rain with Derek’s pounding headache.

“Yeah, Peter must have been pumping him full of drugs or something, he looks like a fucking alpha,” Erica intoned.

Derek spun around and gaped at her in shock, “What are you doing here?”

Erica gave him a narrow glare and Boyd stepped closer behind her and growled low in his throat.

“Shit,” Scott breathed, “He _is_ an alpha! What the fuck?! The change shouldn’t even happen that fast!”

“He’s disoriented and injured. Get him!” Erica roared, and Derek watched in growing horror as his pack turned on him with claws and teeth bared.

Derek did the only thing he could when facing those he loved charging at him with the intent to kill. He dropped to his knees and followed the first instincts his body had had before Peter had surrendered the alpha power to him. He bared his neck in submission. If he had to be deposed, whatever strange and distressing reason Scott had for taking out his own alpha, than he at least wanted to survive it and keep the pack he had. He would be second. He would _happily_ be second alpha, if only he could hold Stiles again.

The charging pack paused, shocked and staring at him in confusion. Their instincts were telling them that Derek wasn’t a threat and they had to logic around it. Scott spoke first.

“He’s still acting like an omega. He probably hasn’t totally absorbed this shit yet.”

“So? Kill him now!” Erica insisted, “The point was for _you_ to be alpha!”

Derek sniffed the air, confused by her words. Scott was already an alpha in his own right, and second to Derek only because he wasn’t an ambitious little prick. Yet the scents reaching Derek’s nose were those of a group of _betas_. He couldn’t smell a single alpha or omega amongst them. Erica was supposed to be an omega. Scott an alpha. Derek… Derek hadn’t been an omega in _years_ \- nearly decades- and Scott hadn’t known him back then.

“What… what is this?” Derek choked out, “Why don’t you smell right? Where is _Stiles_? Why was Peter even _in_ our truck? He’s supposed to be retired. Was… Was Lydia in there, too? Are you sure? She always sneaks in around Peter, she might have…”

“Lydia Martin?” Scott asked, snorting in amusement, “She hasn’t been around Beacon Hills in decades. She got out of this shithole before your _bastard_ uncle turned it into a cesspool. He’s acting seriously weird, you guys. I don’t think we should kill him. Something’s up, and if it’s another of Peter’s plots than he might have information we don’t. I don’t want another fucking plague hitting this town.”

Scott came forward and Derek reeled away, confusion making him cower away from his former friend and huddle against the stinking, steaming wreck of his former life. Nothing made _sense_ and it was absolutely terrifying. If he couldn’t trust his memories or nose than what could he trust?

“Easy, little g- er- shit, you’re not so little anymore, are you? C’mere, Derek. Look, we won’t hurt you if you just cooperate with us. If you were Peter’s victim too, than we can work through this.”

Erica snorted, “Please. Him? He’s his fucking henchman.”

“He was an omega,” Scott stated, his voice spitting the word out as if it were a curse, “You know how they are, what they can be made to do. If he’s asking for Stiles than maybe there’s more going on here than we know.”

“Or maybe Stiles is manipulating shit, too,” Erica stated harshly, “If you won’t kill him and take the alpha power, than _I will.”_

She shouldn’t have announced it first. She gave away whatever surprise advantage she might have had. Erica threw herself forward, focused on ripping Derek’s throat out, only to have him instinctively duck down and throw his sizable bulk into knocking her off balance. She flew a dozen yards and hit the ground, skidding along it before landing limp on her side. Derek regretted his instinctive move instantly and joined the group running towards her to check if she were okay.

“Shit, shit! Erica?!” Derek dropped to his knees at her head and touched her hair gently, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… what the fuck is going on?!”

Derek was sobbing again, and as Erica struggled to rise while wincing in pain his relief over her survival was minimal. He was shaking with fear, the endorphin rush of his wounds finally healing, and the absolute shock of finding himself in some strange, alternate reality.

_Alternate reality?_

Derek took in several choked breaths, looking up at the pack that stood around him giving him discomfited stares of confusion and distrust. It was literally the only explanation that made sense.

“I don’t think I’m from here,” Derek choked out, “You were my friends. My pack. My mate…”

The shock hit Derek hard and he threw up, doubling over on the road to choke and sputter revoltingly.

“Maybe… maybe we should take him to Stiles,” Erica said softly, then hissed in pain and brushed some stones from her road burn, “I should probably see him anyway. I can’t heal with fucking debris in my arms and legs.”

“Okay,” Scott stated, “We take him to Stiles, but we’re not playing that slut’s games. He has to heal us. Peter’s not the alpha anymore and this guy is… whatever the fuck he is. He won’t be alpha for long, that’s for sure. That ritual we looked up as a backup plan will work on him, too.”

Derek’s arms were firmly gripped and he was bodily dragged several yards away to an armored car. It was a police issue and Derek gave it a confused look and muttered Stiles’ father’s name in question. Nobody answered him and he was tossed in the back to curl up on the cold floor and shake himself to pieces.

_Stiles will know what to do. Stiles will know what to do. Stiles will know what to…_

Unconsciousness was a mercy.


	2. Chapter 2

“Look, I don’t know any more than you do. In fact,” Stiles voice spat out acerbically, “I know significantly less.”

Derek’s eyes flew open only to hit blinding white lights. He swore and turned his head, blinking away the tears to look around himself. His nose found Stiles, his scent the same alluring quality that Derek knew, but to his absolute horror he didn’t smell like his mate. He smelled _off_ , as if someone else had scented him and to top it off he was _human_. Derek flailed on the table, finding himself strapped down with something that stopped him from breaking through. He looked down the length of his body to see simple leather straps, but they were _immovable_.

“The fuck?!” Derek shouted, struggling angrily.

“You’ll just hurt yourself,” Stiles’ beautiful voice rang out, sounding bored, “They’ve got mountain ash stitches. You’re not moving an inch. So, who are you and what have you done with Derek Hale?”

“He _is_ Derek Hale,” Scott insisted, “He was in the truck. He’s just… different.”

“Stiles?” Derek found his mate’s face and then recoiled in shock.

Stiles didn’t look like Stiles. His hair was spiked, but in a different style. It was dyed black and fell over one eye, stiff and cartoonish like one of Stiles’ beloved anime characters. He wore a leather collar with a dog tag on it, all black and silver, and his clothes were dark and tight to his body. He was covered in tattoos. A sleeve up both arms depicting naked men and women in various states of sexual congress and a black moth in vivid detail on his left cheek. His eyes were outlined and his lips unnaturally plump. His eyes were absolutely dead and unfeeling as he stared down at Derek with a blank expression. He looked…

“Oh my gods, you’re a whore,” Derek choked, “This is so fucking weird and I want out. Now. Fucking kill me, I’m not living in this reality.”

Stiles snorted, one corner of his lips lifting a bit, “Sorry, buddy, nobody checks out without… well… actually, the boss is dead so I guess if you want to off yourself you’re welcome to.”

“Nobody is offing themselves!” Scott insisted, stepping up beside Stiles.

Derek watched in horror as Stiles leaned away from him, his head lowering a bit. It wasn’t a submissive move. It was a frightened move. This was an instinctive fear response from someone used to being _beaten_. Derek had seen that same subtle body language from Isaac enough times to know that it was a nauseatingly chronic response. Even after years of kind treatment Isaac still ducked and shied away from friendly touch. Yet Stiles didn’t move away completely, whimper, or show his neck the way Isaac often did. He was _unconsciously_ wincing away from Scott, but he was acting tough. It was the way any hardened prostitute would behave after being under the rough treatment of a shitty pimp who beat them rather than encourage them to be promiscuous and charming. Derek knew from experience- a lot of it- that an encouraging pimp made more money and had happier tricks that would enjoy the business and thrive in it.

“Will somebody just tell me what’s going on?” Derek pleaded angrily, struggling all the more, “I feel like I’m in an episode of the Twilight Zone! Why are Scott and Erica betas? Why do you think I’m an omega? I haven’t been an omega in _decades_! Why do you all smell _wrong_? Who the _fuck_ has been touching my mate and _why is he a pro?!_ ”

“The only pro in the room is me,” Stiles stated, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced air, he drew a deep breath in and let it out slowly, “And I’m a pro because your perverted uncle made me one.”

“No,” Derek shook his head and struggled, “No, no. I mean, he indulged in his fair share of lot lizards, but he stopped me from being one and he _never_ would have let you be one. And you’re my mate, Stiles. My _mate_.”

Stiles gave him the first level, straightforward stare he’d gotten from any of them. He stared straight into Derek’s eyes and his own narrowed as if he were studying a bug under a microscope.

“What did you just say?” Stiles asked, his voice so deadly cold and threatening that Scott backed up a pace.

“I said you’re my mate,” Derek insisted.

“Dude,” Scott whispered, “He’s an alpha now. Could he be?”

“I don’t have a mate,” Stiles replied sharply, his tone bitter and angry, “You fuckers all smell like shit to me. Shit and burning rubber.”

“Not me,” Derek shook his head sharply, “Not Scott.”

“Scott’s a beta.”

“He was an alpha,” Derek insisted, “He _was_. I swear to fucking gods, he was an alpha and you two are best friends. He wouldn’t ever hurt you. You shouldn’t be afraid of him. You shouldn’t be afraid of _anyone!_ You’re the most badass, stubborn, brilliant, fucking annoying omega I know, and you’re _mine.”_

Derek choked on a sob on the last word. This was all surreal and terrifying and worse than any nightmare he’d ever had. He wanted to puke all over himself again, but his stomach was empty and clenching angrily. He swallowed hard and struggled anew while Stiles just stared at him and let his cigarette burn to ash.

“What’s he talking about?” Scott asked, “I don’t hear a lie. This shit is weird as fuck.”

“Like I keep telling you,” Stiles replied softly, “I don’t know, but I’m fairly certain you got the wrong Derek Hale.”

“How the hell is that possible?” Scott snapped angrily, “There’s only _one_ Derek Hale. At least, I mean, I suppose there could be other dudes with the same name, but look at his face! It’s him!”

“He smells different,” Stiles stated, holding up a ring covered finger and ticking off his points, “He’s an alpha, he’s clearly got a soul- seeing as how the Derek we know wouldn’t cry over anything- he is honestly confused and insisting events we’re unaware of have happened, he thinks I’m someone I’m not, and he’s here after a catastrophic event.”

“What’s that last bit got to do with anything?” Erica asked irritably.

She was sitting shirtless on a table, clearly freshly cleaned and stinking of medicine.

Stiles flicked the long ash end of his cigarette into a tray on the counter, stuck it in his lip, and took a draw while walking to an area above Derek’s prone head. He pulled an ancient tome off of a book shelf and spread it out on the counter beneath. He turned the pages while smoking and when he finished that cigarette he lit another. The people in the room were growing impatient and Scott was just starting to glare angrily when Stiles tapped a page and stepped back. Scott, clearly the leader, stepped forward and stared down at the page.

“What is it?” Erica asked.

“I… I’m not sure. What’s any of this mean?” Scott asked, “You’re the only damn druid around here, Stiles. This is gibberish to us.”

“In the event,” Stiles dragged on his cigarette and then stamped it out, blowing it into the air casually, “Of a catastrophic event such as an earthquake or some such shit, there have been instances of people switching places with their double in a parallel universe. Most times they just come off as crazy and they get locked up, but sometimes it gets figured out and studied until the person dies off.”

“You say that like it’s a sudden thing,” Derek pointed out carefully.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “The heart can’t take the switch. It stresses the person out and eventually they go into unrecoverable cardiac arrest and die.”

“Or they get back,” Derek insisted, glaring angrily at Stiles, “They get back to their dimension and their mate.”

Stiles reached for another cigarette and Derek growled angrily, causing everyone in the room to freeze as his alpha powers hit them for the first time.

“Oh, you got a problem with me smoking?” Stiles cackled, his tone incredulous and manic, “That’s fucking rich considering your mirror self recruited me.”

“Recruited…” Derek started.

“Let me clue you in to what you did in this verse,” Stiles strode towards him and leaned over, planting both hands on the table, “Just so you know why we won’t be letting our guard down around you anytime soon. Your uncle was a rich ass alpha. Got that by shady means. Probably murdered your mom. Who really knows, right?”

“Kate killed my family,” Derek replied, “It was my fault, but my uncle-“

“Not _here_ ,” Stiles snapped, and flicked Derek’s nose sharply, “Here, your uncle was a truck driver turned human trafficker. He got away with murder. Literally. He got Scott’s dear old dad-“

“He’s not my dad, either!” Scott snarled angrily, interrupting him, “I disowned him years ago!”

“-To smooth things over and hide his activities from ICE. He then went on to enslave this entire town. He got himself promoted to mayor and ended the mating runs. He called it ‘omega rights’, but it was bullshit. He started one by one having his nephew- that’s you- lure in omegas. He told us he’d free us. He told us we’d own our sexuality. He gave us this fucking ‘business plan’ about how to rule our own heats and did this subtle pyramid scheme bullshit to trick us into becoming his whores. The whole damn town was fucked over. Literally. He triggered our heats all at once and the town went mad hunting down omegas, but nobody got to actually claim anyone: willing or not. No, no, no. Instead he walked around with a hormone-resistant mask on and murdered every alpha in the fucking town. Every. Single. One. And he kept the rest of us- betas and omegas- cowed under threat. His business stayed a front for human trafficking and we were his home base. He has- _had_ \- a slew of omega whores making sure all the betas stayed in line. Instincts, you know? Must protect omegas!! Bullshit. All bullshit. And he’s our pimp, the bastard who forces us to whore ourselves out and obey him because in the end he claimed _all of us_ ,” Stiles paused to poke Derek’s forehead with a sharp nail, “Even you.”

“No,” Derek stared up at Stiles in horror, “No, that’s fucking disgusting. I know Peter’s a creep, but he’s not a monster. He’s not a _pervert_.”

“Not yours, maybe, but ours is,” Stiles replied, straightening up, “So I guess we’re all widows now.”

Stiles turned and headed for the counter again, shutting the book and putting it back up on the shelf.

“So… what do we do with him?” Scott asked softly, “Can I still get the alpha power from him? Is it even Peter’s? Will it free the omegas if I do?”

“He’s not got the alpha power you want,” Stiles explained, “You should go back to the wreck and draw it from the corpse there, assuming it hasn’t already passed to his chosen successor. It’s not like he doesn’t have a fuckton of babies wandering around. Guess I should pick my kids up from daycare and see if either of them smells like an alpha.”

“You have kids?” Derek asked, a strange twist of longing in his gut.

Stiles paused, “Your Stiles doesn’t?”

“No.”

“I thought he was an omega,” Stiles wondered, “I mean… you never freaked about me being one, so…”

“He is,” Derek stated quietly, “We decided not to have kids. He wants to have a career in politics. Fix the world, you know? He doesn’t want kids. Neither do I, really, but I’ve never thought about what they might look like or smell like or…”

“They’re not _yours_ , dumbass,” Stiles scoffed, “They smell like Peter and I.”

Derek winced, “I can’t picture a world where you love him instead of me.”

“I don’t _love_ him, I hate him. He smells like- _smelled like_ \- vinegar and caviar. He makes me sick. He’s also the only alpha around and loves to fuck us stupid. I’m one of his breeding holes, not his _mate_.”

“Uh, excuse me,” Scott inserted, “But if your kids start smelling like an alpha won’t they call Peter and turn them over?”

Stiles gave Scott a narrow eyed look, “You said he was dead.”

“He is, but they’ll still _try_ to, and that could be traumatizing to a little kid,” Scott pointed out, honestly looking worried. It was the first time Derek had seen anyone act like _themselves_.

“This whole existence is traumatizing,” Stiles stated pointedly, lighting his cigarette despite Derek’s annoyance, “They should have been drowned at birth to spare them this disgusting life.”

“They’re your cubs!” Derek shouted in horror, “My gods, you’re just like your mother!”

“My mother?” Stiles snorted, “Your Stiles has a mom?”

“Had,” Derek replied, giving him a wary glance, “She abandoned him when he was a kid. When we found her it turned out she was schizophrenic and not thinking right. She’d even abandoned another child before him.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “I love my kids. I’d never abandon them, no matter their parentage. I’m also not mentally ill. I’m just honest, and the honest truth is that they’d be better off dead. They’re both betas and eventually they’ll be slaves to… huh… I guess they won’t since he’s dead. Still, things were awful when they were born and if I’d had alpha balls I’d have killed them. I didn’t, so they’re two and four now, and so far Peter hasn’t tried anything with them.”

Derek pulled at his bonds, “Can’t you let me up? I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not _him_.”

“I can’t believe I had a female parent, that’s so weird,” Stiles chuckled, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray. Nearby Erica and Boyd were talking softly over a map, trying to decide who in the town might have gotten Peter’s ability if they returned to the site only to find Peter’s body without it.

“You don’t here?” Derek asked.

“My omega dad is John Stilinski,” Stiles replied.

“He’s an _omega_ here?” Derek blinked, “No wonder things got out of control. He’d never have let that happen in my Beacon Hills. Who’s your dad?”

“Rafe McCall,” Stiles replied.

Derek blinked, “Who are _Scott’s_ parents.”

“The same.”

“You’re brothers here?” Derek replied, “He doesn’t even seem to like you. He called you a slut.”

Stiles shrugged, “He got to be a beta. I got to be a whore.”

“I’ve been fighting for change!” Scott barked out.

“You’ve been sitting on privilege,” Stiles replied, tamping out his cigarette, “Now get Beefcakes here out of my lab. I’ve got shit to do and you’re both healed. Oh, and pay up. Hundred each.”

Stiles strode over and unhooked Derek who sat up and rubbed at his arms, frowning at the group. He was trying to think about how to get himself back to his _own_ dimension while they argued over the price. McCall was apparently going to stiff Stiles for the bill and Derek had a feeling he needed the funds.

“Charging betas to fuck me through my heats is no longer a requirement, which means I need funds,” Stiles snapped, “Don’t expect anything from me again if you fuck me over on this bill. I’m serious. No free medical shit ever again!”

“You’re a leech!” Erica accused.

“How do I get home?” Derek asked.

They kept arguing, their voices getting louder and angrier and Erica shoved Stiles’ shoulder. Instinctively Derek roared at the group for touching his mate and they all fell into shocked silence with the exception of Stiles. Stiles dropped to the floor and lay there, trembling and breathing heavy at the sound of an alpha’s rage. Derek had seen Isaac do this enough to know that it was a PTSD reaction and he was on his feet and kneeling beside him instantly.

“Shit, Stiles. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, baby, come here, let me…”

Stiles shoved him away angrily; scooting across the floor with his face bright red and eyes flashing with anger, “Fuck you! Don’t touch me! You don’t get to touch me ever again you fucking bastard!”

Derek cringed, “He did, didn’t he? Your Derek? He and you-“

“Ew, no,” Scott scoffed, “They were both omegas. That wouldn’t even _work_.”

“Stiles and I were mates back when I was an omega, too,” Derek insisted, “We’re mates here, too. I can smell it. Your Derek was supposed to be your mate before Peter perverted him. He-“

“Fuck. Him.” Stiles growled out angrily, “And fuck you, too. Get out of my fucking shop.”

Stiles stood up and pointed to the doorway, but the way he leaned against the counter told Derek how scared he was. Derek stayed down on his knees, not willing to frighten Stiles further.

“I have literally no where to go. My truck was my home and it’s destroyed. My mate is in another dimension. I have to get back to him. If I’m here, is my doppelganger there? Is _my_ Stiles stuck with some fucking pervert?”

“Why would you care?” Stiles asked sharply.

“Because I love him and I don’t want him to get hurt!” Derek pleaded, “Please, help me get back to him!”

Scott and his crew were trying to slip out, on the bill _and_ Derek, while Stiles was distracted, but he just pulled a clip from his belt and pressed a button. A door swung shut and Derek jumped a bit as he felt an ash barrier come up.

“Oops, now you’re all trapped here,” Stiles sighed, “Guess you assholes have to pay up.”

“Or I can punch the-“ Scott strode forward angrily, but Derek was up off the floor and sending him flying before he could take more than a step towards Stiles.

“Oo-ho!” Stiles laughed, “I like this! Personal bodyguard! Maybe I’ll take the town over with Beefcake here while the rest of you flounder around searching for an alpha power we don’t even need!”

“I’m not staying,” Derek turned towards him and pressed his hands together, “I _need_ to get home. My husband needs me. My pack needs me. Send me home.”

“I can’t,” Stiles stated flatly.

“My Stiles is a genius. I’m sure you are as well-“

“I fell for a pyramid scheme that turned me into a whore, but you keep believing, sweetheart,” Stiles scoffed, reaching for another cigarette.

Derek darted forward and snatched the pack from his hand, crushing it angrily, “You have _babies_ to take care of, stop fucking poisoning yourself!”

Stiles winced away and Derek swore angrily, ignoring the sound of the group trying to get through Stiles’ barrier. Stiles was ignoring them as well, but they certainly couldn’t stay for long. Derek made up his mind, “I’ll make them pay you, but then you send me home.”

Stiles snorted, “You think that makes us even?”

Derek stepped closer, voice lowering, “He was your mate, wasn’t he? That’s why you’re so angry with me. I’ve got his face, but Stiles, _I’m not him._ I love my Stiles. I adore him. I support his career and he runs my business. He’s my whole world and my best friend. I’m only yelling because he and I joke that way together, because we’re _that comfortable_ around each other. It’s how we are. Do you understand? I need him, and he needs me. Please don’t punish me for my face. Send me home.”

Stiles cocked his head to one side and his nostrils twitched, “You smell like him but different.”

“Did he smell good to you?” Derek asked, knowing he was right.

A single tear slipped free and slid down Stiles’ cheek, collecting make up and revealing a scar beneath his carefully sculpted appearance. Peter had marked him. Permanently. Derek’s hand cupped the omega’s cheek and he wished for a moment that he could protect the young man before him, but it seemed it was already too late. He was scarred in more ways than one.

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered softly, “He smelled like Christmas to me. He smelled so fucking good I followed him to my own doom like a puppy, convinced we’d save the world together, but he slaughtered every dream I ever had. Do you hear me? Don’t fucking look at me like that, I’m _past hurt_ and I don’t want your pity.”

“You didn’t deserve what he did and if I could I would kill him, but right now he’s _with my mate_. I’m begging you, Stiles. Don’t take his happiness away from him the way yours was taken from you.”

Stiles gave him a disgusted look, “You think _you’re_ his happiness? Bitch, please.”

“I know I’m a part of it,” Derek replied, “I know _you_ know I’m a part of it, because you can smell it on me. That I’m honestly longing for him. That I miss him. That I have what you _should have had_. You’re allowed to miss what you didn’t have, you know? I still miss the relationship I could have had with my family if they were still alive. He’s just as dead inside, and he’s definitely dead to you.”

Stiles leaned into his hand and shut his eyes a moment, taking in a shuttering breath, “They probably don’t even have the money.”

Stiles fumbled with the remote and hit the button, letting the door open. Derek stared after them as they scrambled out and stepped back to give Stiles breathing room as he tried to collect himself after all the emotions that had just been shoved down his throat.

“You’ll help me get home?” Derek asked.

Stiles paused, glanced at him over his shoulder as he was heading into a bathroom, and shrugged before shutting the door between them. Derek ignored the sound of sobbing inside and Stiles returned after about twenty minutes with his make up fixed. Derek had been sitting on the table- well away from those terrifying straps- and hopped down to face him with a cautious disposition.

“Well?” Derek asked sharply, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

Stiles sighed, “Sending you back will be difficult. Most likely the only reason you got here is because _both trucks_ crashed at the same time. That’s super fucking rare according to what I’ve read, and the chances of you getting back are fucking shitty. We’d need a legit earthquake, dude.”

“This is California,” Derek pointed out.

“I know, which is the only reason I’m actually entertaining this. That being said, have you considered that you might be returning only to find _your_ Stiles had died in that wreck? That being sent here might be a _mercy_?”

Derek’s throat closed up as pain flooded his heart and he gripped the edge of the table as his head spun. Stiles hurried across the room, put his hand on Derek’s shoulder, and helped him straighten up as he shook in fear.

“Hey, hey, easy. Shit, you’re really gone on him, aren’t you? Remember your heart is strained here. You can’t freak out like that or you’ll go into cardiac arrest.”

“He’s my _world_ ,” Derek breathed, “He can’t be dead. I can’t… he won’t be. I’d feel it. I’d _know_.”

Stiles sighed, blowing upward to rustle his bangs, “I’m going to smoke when I want and you’re going to deal with it.”

“Your _kids_ -“

“Are not your problem or business. I’ll make you a spell to activate whenever the next earthquake hits, and when it does you’ll get the fuck out of my life so I can move past this nightmare existence.”

Derek nodded, “Yeah, but will you be okay?”

“OH          FOR FUCK’S SAKE STOP BEING SO DAMN NICE!” Stiles howled, throwing his arms up and stomping away, “I’m working on your spell, you just sit there, look pretty, and try to remember that I’m not your omega to…”

Stiles froze, one hand inside of a cabinet and grasping a vial of something snot green. Derek frowned and leaned towards him curiously, but when Stiles turned there was a positively wicked grin on his face.

“You… think of me as your omega.”

“Well…” Derek paused as the scent of arousal flooded towards him.

“I’ve never _had_ an alpha actually pleasure me before. It’s always been about them getting off, me getting the money, and giving Peter as little as possible without him catching on that I’ve been ferreting it away.”

“Um…” Derek stepped back as Stiles stalked towards him, predator fully expressive despite his omega inheritance.

“I’m not doing this for free, no sir, not for free. I was going to demand your watch or some other shit, but this is _so much better_ ,” Stiles leered, running a hand over Derek’s pecks and leaning his entire body against him while Derek tried to decide if backing up was alpha or not.

“My phone is nicer than my watch,” Derek tried, sounding pathetic even to himself.

“You,” Stiles leaned in to breathe in Derek’s scent, “Are going to give me what I should have had during my run. You’re going to fuck… no, you’re going to _make love_ to me.”

“I don’t think…” Derek stammered.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Stiles laughed lightly, and leaned back and smiled at him with heavy eyelids, “You should just _feel_. Pretend I’m him, if you have to. I’ll shower off the cigarette smoke to make it more real.”

“I can’t cheat on Stiles,” Derek stammered out.

“You won’t be,” Stiles stated cheerily, looking so much like _his_ Stiles that it was painful, “I’m his doppelganger! I _am_ him! I’m just whore-Stiles to your nice-Derek.”

“It just… it feels wrong,” Derek replied anxiously.

“You,” Stiles stabbed his chest forcefully with one bony finger, “Will make sweet, sweet love to me and _like it_ , and I, especially, will love it, or you’re not going home.”

Derek steeled himself and narrowed his gaze, “Don’t become like Peter. Don’t _force_ me.”

Stiles huffed in annoyance, “Fine. Don’t go home. It’s not as if I won’t enjoy having your sweet smelling ass around. Go get a job in a town full of people who hate you and would as soon shoot you on sight. See what happens when you walk out that door. You’ll be _begging_ me for a deal that you benefit from! Twice!”

Stiles stomped off to the front, pushed the little half-door open, and glared at Derek in expectation.

“I’m the alpha, remember?” Derek pointed to himself, “I’ll just-“

Stiles snorted, “This town has been killing every alpha born or evolved since Peter took over twelve years ago. We were scared of _him_. You aren’t alpha enough to use what little power Dark-Derek had to your advantage. You’ll be dead within a day and I won’t even miss you. Will _your_ Stiles miss you?”

Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat, “Fine. Fine, whatever you want just… Please get me home to him. I’ll… I’ll confess and make it right when I get there and-“

“You’ll confess?” Stiles snorted, “Not only am I basically forcing you, but if you don’t tell him he’ll never know. I’m on birth control- not that you’d find out if I got up the duff anyway- and you can’t catch STD’s.”

Derek shook his head, “And meanwhile Dark-Derek has been hurting him. He needs an explanation and I won’t leave anything out. I won’t and can’t lie to him. He deserves better. So do you, for the record.”

“Better than what?” Stiles shrugged, “Like you keep saying, none of this is _your_ fault.”

Derek took a deep breath in and leveled him with a compassionate stare, “You deserve more than a one night stand with a guy who resembles the mate who should have been treating you better.”

Stiles snorted, “Go fuck yourself. I’m getting what I want and I can give _myself_ what I need just as soon as the world stops fucking me over. The shower here smells like sick people so I’m going to close up shop and we’re heading to my place to clean up. We don’t have a lot of time before I have to get the kids from school, so try not to disappoint me too fast or take too long, m’kay?”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, and followed him out the door with misery and worry curling in his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles lived with another prostitute named Gretchen in a tiny apartment. It had two bedrooms, one for the adults and one for the kids. Peter had sired a child on Gretchen as well. She was human, ragged, and strung out on drugs. The second Stiles walked in he hung up his jacket and walked the perimeter of the room pulling needles out of areas that he apparently knew they’d be stashed in. He dropped them all into a coffee can and stuck it on a shelf without a word. It was routine and Derek felt sick.

Stiles shut the door to her bedroom after checking to make sure she was still alive and blew out a breath of disgust, “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

“Can you leave the make up off?” Derek asked, “My Stiles doesn’t wear it and it’s a bit far for me.”

“Sure, whatever, just tell me if you change your mind,” Stiles replied, and headed for the bathroom at a fast pace, “Make yourself at home.”

Derek was glad that the place didn’t smell like cigarette smoke overmuch. Apparently Stiles didn’t smoke inside the house and the woman he’d laid out must have cooked whatever she’d been shooting up in her room. There was a faint smell of chemicals but it was mostly confined to the room and Derek was wondering if they could get a hotel because the idea of entering it to fuck fake Stiles was even more nauseating than fucking fake Stiles.

“Okay,” Stiles exited the room and Derek’s gut clenched in rage this time. He had one big scar across his cheek from ear to chin, and dark bags beneath his eyes. His chest had claw marks crisscrossing them and whip marks on his back when he turned to shut the bathroom door. The parts of his legs Derek could see beneath the towel had burn and ligament marks crossing them. Derek couldn’t even begin to comprehend how an alpha could do such things to an omega, let alone how Dark-Derek had allowed it to happen to his mate. Even as an omega Derek hadn’t been weak. He’d been stubborn and strong-willed. It hadn’t led to anything good, but that was the fault of his own poor judgment, largely due to how sheltered omegas were growing up. He’d had no education to prepare him for the world. Derek doubted his own mistakes were comparable to Dark-Derek’s, or excusable by poor life skills. For one, the instincts to claim his mate should have _still been there,_ regardless of their same secondary gender.

“How the hell…” Derek scowled at him.

Stiles sighed, “I can cover them up with make up.”

“They’ll still be _there_ ,” Derek snarled angrily, “How could someone _do this_ to you?”

Stiles shrugged, “Just lucky, I guess. So obviously my asshole roomy scored dope instead of money from her latest john, so my whole week is fucked over. My rooms also occupied. The couch folds out, so I’m going to check it for more needles if you’ll just budge-“

Derek moved fast and Stiles chuckled, “Relax. She usually caps them. Lucky me, I get the OCD crackhead roomy.”

“What about the _kids_?!” Derek asked anxiously.

“Luckily all werewolves,” Stiles replied, “So they’re hardier than she and I are, but I try to keep them safe. Hers got ahold of a needle once but I treated him myself and he’s fine. She freaked and got more careful after that, but she still relies on me to clean up a lot. Malia is the youngest and she’s always in her playpen or her room. Crazy-ass back there isn’t allowed in the kids rooms. At all. I put her son to bed. Seriously, it’s under control.”

Derek shook his head in disgust as Stiles folded out the couch and threw a few blankets on top, “Where’s your dad… er… dads?”

“John’s dead, killed by Peter for fighting back when he tried to rape him. Rafe helps ferry johns into town for us to bring in fresh revenue,” Stiles replied, “He’s as much our pimp as Peter is.”

“Peter _shares you_?” Derek asked, “I thought he’d claimed you all as his mates?!”

“No, he pimps us out,” Stiles replied, “I _did_ mention I was a whore.”

“I thought you were joking,” Derek replied anxiously, “How can you… why can’t you just _leave_?”

“And go where? He controls all the truck stops in the state and parts of Nevada. I’d have to go mid country to get away, and then with what life skills and no mate? There’s no safety for an unbonded omega. I’d just be a whore there as well. It’s the only option for an unmated omega with no parent to care for them. At least _this_ is the devil I know. I have ways to manipulate Peter into being halfway decent to me. I’m kinda his favorite!”

Stiles actually looked _proud_ and Derek swallowed down his bile.

“You could find a mate,” Derek insisted, “I had more than one. They’re not a _one a person_ thing. You could find someone besides Dark-Derek.”

“Alphas stink,” Stiles scoffed, “And omegas who mate with each other aren’t considered mated. I’d still not be allowed to work or be free or anything.”

“So you have found someone?” Derek asked anxiously, latching on to his mention of an omega.

Stiles picked up a cigarette, sighed in frustration, and put it down again, “We’re running out of time. Wash up and make with the _good_ sex.”

“Who?” Derek asked, “Just tell me that. Maybe I can help you get to them while we wait for an earthquake.”

“Lydia Martin,” Stiles replied, “She smelled sweet to me, but she found herself an alpha mate and got the hell out of here years ago. Her nose always wrinkles when he’s near her. She hates his scent. She never did that around me so… anyway, lose the pants.”

Stiles flopped down on the bed and Derek slowly stripped off his clothes while trying to battle butterflies in his stomach. He’d never once had an issue performing for _his_ Stiles, not even while sick from an accidental exposure to wolfsbane during a picnic. Now he wasn’t sure if _this_ Stiles could arouse him at all. He smelled like a mate, and he smelled unbonded, but he didn’t smell enough like the man who Derek loved. Add that to the stress, the fear that they’d never be together again, the strange _otherness_ about this omega, and the differences in their personalities, and Derek was legitimately turned _off_. He managed to excuse himself for a moment to use some mouthwash and take a quick shower, but even pumping his dick in the shower and picturing his mate wasn’t helping overmuch.

_I’m going to have to get inventive._

Derek took a moment to flex flirtatiously once he returned but Stiles just rolled his eyes, “I’ve been with dozens of alphas. Yes. You have muscles. I see them. Get over here and give me the mate experience, dumbass.”

“You’re not exactly turning me on here,” Derek pointed out.

“Oo, gaslighting. Nice.”

“I’m serious, here. You’re basically raping me and expecting me to perform.”

“I smell like an unbonded omega. I know what it does to you lot,” Stiles replied, ignoring his mention of coersion.

“To _unmated_ alphas,” Derek reminded, “I’m mated and sated.”

Stiles snorted, “’Mated and sated’? You make that up all by yourself?”

“No,” Derek replied, “ _My_ Stiles says that whenever a lot lizard flirts with me.”

“Aww, you two sound adorable and nauseating,” Stiles laughed lightly, “Can we get on with this? Because he’s not here and _I am_.”

 _Yet another thing lot lizards have said to me. Fucking hell, this reality is horrible_.

Derek knelt on the side of the bed and Stiles perked up, his entire body going tense as he went from disdainful to eager. For a moment Derek could see _Stiles_ beneath the world-roughened façade. He arched his back and stretched out on the bed with hope and excitement in his eyes. Derek smiled a bit, hoping he could pull this off to get back to his _own_ Stiles if that sweetness would just stay closer to the surface. Here was a young man who hadn’t been loved or cherished since he was a child, and probably not even then by one of his parents. He had needs and Derek could fulfill them.

Derek leaned forward on one hand and reached out with the other to stroke a finger down Stiles’ cheek while staring into chocolate eyes. He could do this. He just had to get into a nice, imaginative headspace. A first time with his mate all over again. Role-playing. He’d played games with his own Stiles before. He’d just pretend this was another sex game. Stiles was wearing perfume to make himself smell different. They’d just left a bar and it had been smoky. It was holloween and he’d gotten ahold of a shit-ton of temporary tattoos (again).

“Whoa,” Stiles breathed as Derek smiled down at him, tracing his lips and thinking of his beloved. His expression had to be changing with his sincerity and Stiles was quite literally swooning.

Derek tangled his hand in wet locks and leaned forward to press his lips firmly to Stiles’ chapped lips. Stiles hummed into his kiss, lips parting and accepting his tongue with ease. Derek moved over him, one knee between parted thighs as he leaned forward to fully explore his mouth. He moved his hand from his hair down to his hip and slid the towel open. Stiles shifted a bit; pressing against Derek’s body as he worked the towel out from under him. Derek moved down, mouthing at his jaw before tackling his neck and drawing arduous keens from Stiles’ mouth. He was panting hard, the scent of arousal and slick filling the air. Derek was surprised he was so sensitive after all the alphas he’d bedded, but it was entirely possible they’d been too interested in sating themselves to pleasure him in any way. Derek recalled too well the truckers who had just mindlessly rutted into him when he’d been turning tricks. He’d eventually learned to entice them into being more considerate, but even that didn’t work 100% of the time.

Stiles shifted in place, flushed from cheeks to chest, and reached up to run a hand over Derek’s abdomen. His taunt from earlier seemed a lie now that he was excited. Derek gave his shoulder a nip and slid down to tease a nipple, but a drop of milk had him moving quickly away. He had never found that aspect sexual, preferring to enjoy Lydia and her milk as his ‘mother’. He focused on Stiles’ sides instead, biting and nipping so as not to tickle. Stiles was panting by the time Derek got anywhere interesting and dragged his teeth along the grove in Stiles’ thighs. Stiles spread his legs wide and pushed at Derek’s head, but he was determined to go at his own pace. Stiles’ cock was firm and leaking onto his belly when Derek finally turned his head to lick a stripe along the side. It bounced and hit his cheek on the way down, making Stiles snicker. That laugh sounded so familiar that Derek smiled fondly and nuzzled into the sensitive flesh between groin and thigh again. Stiles gasped and his hips twitched.

“Your stubble is seriously awful,” Stiles gasped, pushing at Derek’s head again to get more friction on his skin.

Derek cupped his ass; giving him a firm squeeze before teasing a finger between his cheeks. Stiles was wet with arousal for him and Derek was… _mostly_ hard. He couldn’t deny the arousal with such a responsive lover, but the circumstances were less than erotic. He was just starting to consider that this might not even be _possible_ when the young man shifted back and spread his legs wide.

“Fuck, you’ve got me so _hot_ ,” Stiles moaned beneath him, tugging at Derek to get him to move up his body again, “C’mere. Gimme a kiss.”

It was so _Stiles_ , and Derek smiled and sunk into the pretense fully as he climbed up to enjoy a long, intimate kiss. His tongue slid along the omega’s with slow, lingering delight. Stiles hummed and wriggled and pressed against him perfectly. Derek was holding him tightly, relief from the day’s trauma sliding out of his mind as his mate held him tightly. The omega was so nubile and gorgeous beneath him that Derek was soon leaking precome. He knelt up, palming Stiles’ dick and giving him a few pumps to see if he were eager yet. The way his eyes rolled told him enough. Stiles was past needy and whimpering swear words beneath his breath as he fucked up into Derek’s hand.

Derek didn’t speak. He didn’t want to break the trance he’d worked himself into. Instead he grasped Stiles’ legs and wrapped them around his waist, mouthing along his neck again as he began to rub against him. He was sliding his dick along the wet crack of Stiles’ receptive entrance. The omega keened and arched, lining them up perfectly as he whimpered for Derek’s cock. The alpha wasn’t inclined to wait longer and pressed against his grasping pucker. Slowly, inch by inch, Derek slid into his wet heat, groaning as Stiles’ body sucked him inside. The omega was panting beneath him, the scent of lust permeating the air. He smelled unclaimed and it was fucking with Derek’s head on multiple levels. He mouthed along the omega’s neck, wanting to bite down and make Stiles his again, but that wasn’t something he could do.

Derek focused on the pleasure building in his loins. He threw his head back to ward off temptation to bite down and slid those final inches into Stiles’ welcoming body. The omega beneath him was gasping and clutching at his hips, his body flushed with desire. Derek was sure upon looking down into Stiles’ eyes that he had not once felt this level of passion. Heat was different; it was a pervasive, almost painful, urge. This was actual ardor and he was pushing up against Derek, trying to get him to move, gasping ‘fuck me’ over and again in a broken, desperate voice. Derek gave in, plundering his body as the young man moved with him like poetry. Their bodies flowed together perfectly, and once again Derek was aware of a longing to claim him. He held it off and soon the knot was his only focus as it began to swell and his orgasm teased him with its nearness.

“Oh my gods!” Stiles cried out beneath him as thrusting became more difficult, “I didn’t think you’d kno… fuuuuuuck!”

Derek growled in agreement and gripped his plush ass tightly, holding him spread as he leaned forward to fuck into him as hard as he could. Stiles spilled between them while holding on to Derek desperately, taken by his mate’s passion. He let out a strangled cry and shuddered through his release. It prevented Derek from knotting him immediately, but the second the omega went limp beneath him, the ring of muscles relaxing, the alpha buried himself inside of his wanton body. Blissful pressure sent him rocketing into orgasm, a savage roar filling the room that he’d had no idea was even in him. Derek’s seed pulsed into Stiles’ body and he instinctively rolled his hips to keep his knot throbbing and glorious ecstasy flooding his brain. For a moment he was so gone on pleasure and pounding satisfaction that he forgot everything around him. The fear. The worry. The longing for his mate. That this omega _wasn’t his mate._ For a moment everything was Stiles, and his arms and legs locked around Derek’s body as the nubile young man sated him completely. Derek’s hips jerked and gyrated, rubbing his knot against Stiles’ prostate. The man beneath him let out several sharp cries and spilled between them again, spreading his scent over Derek’s belly and chest. Derek groaned and Stiles’ fluttering muscles brought him another jolt of rocketing pleasure, although as a knotted alpha he hadn’t truly stopped having an orgasm and wouldn’t until the knot released. He was riding a roller coaster of pleasure and every movement of Stiles’ body brought him up high and sent him plummeting down, out of control into absolute bliss. Derek knew he was babbling as he often did during sex. Stiles teased him regularly about how he only talked while his dick was wet. He had no idea what he was saying, but by the time his knot released and he could slide free and collapse beside _other_ Stiles, the young man was shaking and sobbing brokenly.

“Wh-what?” Derek asked, chest heaving as he pushed himself upright, “Did I hurt you?”

The young man shook his head, turning away and diving for tissues to wipe at his face and blow his nose.

“Hey?” Derek demanded, reaching for his shoulder, “Are you _hurt_?”

“No,” Stiles choked out, shrugging him off, “Just get out.”

“Get…? Why?”

“Get _out_!” Stiles snarled.

“No fucking way,” Derek snapped, “You’re my only ticket home to my mate and I just violated my _marriage_ to get back to him. What the fuck is your problem?”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Stiles sniffled, standing up and walking towards the kitchen.

Come was pouring down his legs and Derek was watching it with a mildly sick feeling. Derek stood up and followed him, grabbing tissues to clean himself up and dropping them in a trash can. He snatched up a tea towel and stuffed it up against Stiles’ ass, spreading his cheeks and wedging it in place.

“Ew, what the fuck?!” Stiles snapped.

“You’re leaking come all over your _kid’s home_. What kind of a parent are you?!”

“A desperate one,” He snapped, “My kids aren’t going to have a future anyway. Asshole.”

“Peter is _dead_.”

“Rafe is _alive_. My own biological father is going to keep ruining lives here. You think I’m off the hook?”

“This isn’t… I’m not going to…”

“Don’t you dare say you’ll protect me again,” Stiles snarled, “You know it’s not fucking true. Don’t make me a promise you can’t follow through on.”

Derek blinked, “Okay. Look. I talk during sex. I’m not even aware of what I’m saying, okay? I’m sorry if it upset you, but you _did_ ask for the mate experience.”

“If you… you fucking told me you loved me!” Stiles’ shouted, flailing his arms so similarly to his own Stiles’ that Derek winced and experienced his usual ‘don’t piss off the mate’ response. He reached out to comfort him and Stiles slapped at his hands and Derek swore and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” Derek growled, mostly meaning it.

“You called me fucking adorable pet names and promised to bond with me, protect me, _keep me_ _and my cubs safe_!”

“You said you wanted the mate experience!” Derek snapped, “That’s it! It’s me cherishing my mate!”

“Your _mate_ is dead!” Stiles raged.

Derek felt cold descend over him, sliding down his body from his face down. He was instantly shaking and felt sick to his stomach.

“No. No, he’s not.”

“He is and you know he is. You knew it when you woke up on the side of the road. Even if you didn’t, our worlds are parallel, right? Small differences that change circumstances but some things are ordained. Who your mate is. Births. Deaths. Some things like wealth and class change, but so many things are immutable. Peter was in that truck with you here and he’s dead. What do you think that means for your Stiles?”

“Maybe I’m the one who’s dead,” Derek whispered.

“Yeah, sure, you keep hoping for that,” Stiles scoffed, “Still want to go back?”

“I have to. He needs me. Without me he’s mateless and they send him back to his father. He has a future. He’s going to change the world.”

“Like Rafe and Peter did?” Peter scoffed.

“No, he-“

“He’s not going to change fuck all. He’s going to be an omega fuck toy, just like I am. The only difference is he’s yours instead of everyone’s. So here you are. I’ve got kids. I’ve got no mate. _I need you_. You might not be alive over there or your mate won’t be. Either way going back is _pointless_.”

“I have to _try_.”

“You have to _stay here!_ ”

“Did you think that would happen?” Derek gestured to the fold out bed, “Did you think I’d fuck you and be at your mercy? That I’d stay? You’re _not my mate_. You smell similar and you look alike, but you’re not him. I can lose my head while fucking you, but I _don’t_ love you. I love him, and I need him as much as he needs me.”

“No… no…” Stiles shook his head, “No, you can’t love him. You can’t.”

“I do,” Derek replied, “You just saw an echo of that. He’s _my mate_. I need him and he needs me. Don’t keep us apart. _Please_.”

Stiles was still crying, albeit softly, his face twisted up in misery, “It’s not fair. You don’t even have a future to go back to. Why can’t you stay here? Why can’t I have something good for fucking once? Am I not…”

He stopped and Derek read what he wasn’t saying, “You’re worth it. You’re right. It’s not fair, but I _swear_ that you’re worth it, Stiles. I’m just not the right person. My Stiles is strong and stubborn. He got his happily ever after and you can, too.”

“He’s _dead_ ,” Stiles insisted.

“Then I’m going back to bury him, but I’m _not staying here_. I’ll never forgive you if you make me stay. You’ve already violated my trust and my body. You’ll make me the prisoner you are? You’ll enslave me? _I will hate you._ ”

Stiles choked on a sob, leaning against the counter and wiping a hand down his face, “No. No, I won’t become Peter.”

“Then you have to _let me go_ ,” Derek insisted, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

Stiles slapped it away and Derek winced back, nodding in acceptance. If he was being forcibly rejected and separated from his mate he’d be loath to be comforted by that same person as well.

“Does it even require an earthquake?” Derek asked.

“No,” He shook his head miserably, “But I require another shower so you sit tight.”

“You’re not going to do anything, are you?” Derek asked out of concern for himself as well as Other Stiles.

“I’m not on drugs and if I was going to kill myself it would have happened years ago.”

“Right.”

Derek sat down on the fold out bed, miserable and uncomfortable. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of _his_ Stiles being dead. He loved him. He was painfully, agonizingly in love with someone who might be squished beneath a truck right now. _Ejection. Dejection. Rejection._ Derek took a few slow breaths and tried to find something that worked for his mind. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen was cracked but it still worked. Derek called the first number on auto dial and let out a slow breath as it rang and rang.

“Who is this?” Stiles’ voice answered sharply.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered in relief, “I’m-“

“The fuck are you doing?” Stiles scoffed, and this time Derek heard the voice echoing from the bathroom as well.

“You have his phone number,” Derek choked, feeling like weeping again. He still couldn’t believe he was in an alternate dimension and that this wasn’t some sick game or nightmare. He just wanted _his_ Stiles.

“You’re more pathetic than I am,” He snapped, back to being an asshole. He hung up and Derek took a few slow, deep breaths. He had to keep it together. He had to. He _would_ get back to his Stiles and the brilliant omega would be all right.

Stiles exited the bathroom and Derek went in without asking for permission. He located a towel, gave it a sniff, frowned at the scent of stranger on it, and accepted that it was as clean as he’d get. Derek showered briefly, more interested in getting Other Stiles’ scent off of him than anything else, dried off, and headed out to collect his clothes and re-dress. Derek watched Stiles as he did. The omega was smoking while leaning out the window, curvy ass on full display in just a tight pair of black jeans. When he leaned back in Derek saw he was in full gothic make up again and relaxed a bit. He liked this better. He was more _Other_ this way. He could just ignore the similarities.

“Now what?” Derek asked, hands on hips.

“Now we go back to my lab and I cast a few spells to send your ass back. You’ll have to bleed. A lot. Like, close to exsanguination. There’s a sacrifice required. I think a few animals will do. If it doesn’t work you’re fucked.”

“Right,” Derek nodded, “Thank you for doing this.”

“Sure,” Stiles huffed, and then went over to his counter while muttering to himself about getting his stuff together, “I have to pick up my kids first. Schools out at three.”

“Right,” Derek nodded, “I can go with you. Keep you safe for now. Maybe we can talk about getting you to-“

“Shut up,” Stiles huffed, “I know what my options are.”

Derek carried a pile of toys down to Stiles’ jeep and loaded them in the back. He glanced into the back at the two car seats and let out a long, low breath. There were so many things fucking with him in that moment it was hard to keep track of them all. Derek focused on living minute to minute. He’d deal with everything else later; probably in therapy.

Stiles got to the daycare and Derek winced. It looked like a prison. Gates were up all around the building and there was no grass; just cement and a few balls on the ground where kids might play if they weren’t feeling utterly despondent in this grey nightmare. Derek felt like puking or killing someone, or quite possibly both.

“I could kill Rafe,” Derek stated.

“Yeah,” Stiles paused, hand on a keycard, “Yeah, that might help. You’d vanish and if we had proof it was you than obviously we’d all be off the hook. His lackeys would still be around, but we could still find a way through it. Maybe Scott won’t be useless. Who knows?”

Stiles looked a bit hopeful, but quickly tamped it down and headed inside to get his kid. Derek waited in the car, staring around at the other houses with bars on their windows and people locked away inside. The whole street smelled like fear and loathing. These people had sensed their alpha pass and now were terrified of both the past and their future. Having lost an alpha more than once Derek knew what it felt like. It was a deep sense of hollowness in the heart. When it had been his mother he hadn’t even wanted to believe it. He’d returned to the scene of their murder over and over again searching for them for _years_.

A few minutes later Derek heard a frantic shout of his name from inside the building followed by terrified screaming and the cries of a child. Derek was out of his seat and breaking down the door before he’d even registered that it wasn’t _really_ his mate and cub he was running to rescue. Derek threw three omegas against a wall and broke a beta’s neck without even pausing. All need to protect omegas was gone in the wake of the scent of fear and blood in the room. Stiles and his cubs _must be protected_. Derek growled deeply at the remaining staff and they slowly backed away from him.

“Peter won’t-“ One of them started.

“He’s fucking _dead_!” Stiles shrieked and indicated Derek, “See?! NEW ALPHA!”

“Your son is-“

“Not your fucking child! You keep your hands off my babies!” Stiles raged, “Derek, get us _out of here!”_

Derek stepped sideways and motioned to the exit while keeping an eye on the daycare staff. They were studying him and clearly looking for an opening. When Derek got Stiles outside the omega bolted for the car, reeking of fear and breathing erratically. Derek followed after growling a threat at the staff who backed up with obvious fear in their eyes.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, helping him buckle a child into the car from the other side. He couldn’t figure the clasps out and Stiles knocked his hand aside.

“Start the car! Useless fucking alpha!”

Derek hurried to obey and Stiles got into the passenger seat, shaking from head to toe as Derek took off with a screech of tires. Stiles wiped at errant tears as he looked into the back seat of the car at his children. Derek glanced in the rearview mirror. What met his eyes were two carbon copies of Stiles, the older with Peter’s blue eyes. It was painful to see.

“You okay, baby?” Stiles asked, voice full of anxiety.

“Daddy!” The child wailed miserably, the older had recovered somewhat and just looked confused.

“What happened?” Derek asked again.

“The fucking staff happened! I should have checked immediately,” Stiles sobbed, “I was so fucking distracted by _you_ and I figured he’s dead? What could they do?”

Derek took in a deep, long breath and nodded his understanding, “The girl’s an alpha now.”

“And the staff weren’t just trying to reach Peter uselessly,” Stiles hiccupped, “When I came in to get her they didn’t believe me. They panicked and one of them tried to…”

Derek nodded. They’d tried to kill her because as far as they were concerned it would garner favor with Peter. They probably knew instinctively that Peter was dead, and that his power was now inside of the little toddler, but Peter had scarred them mentally and emotionally to the point that they thought of him as a god. He wasn’t dead to him, just indisposed and waiting to torment them when they least expected it. Likely through Rafe.

“How badly is she hurt?”

“They tried to slit her throat,” Stiles replied, “I grabbed her and ran so they only nicked her jaw, but if you hadn’t shown up…”

Derek nodded. The group had been werewolves. Stiles would never have gotten away unscathed and his children would have died at their hands. Derek reached out and gripped his hand, giving him what comfort he could due to their circumstances.

“I’ve got you. We’ll get the hell out of here and…” Derek paused.

They couldn’t just leave. They had to get back to Stiles’ lab and return Derek to his mate.

“You fucker,” Stiles sobbed, pulling his hand free when he realized what Derek’s silence meant.

“It’s my _life_ ,” Derek told him.

“They’re my kids!”

“Dark Derek had to have known someone outside of here. What about Laura? Is she alive here?”

“I don’t know any Laura except his sister and she’s in New York.”

“She could get you to safety. Will she respond to Derek? I could talk to her and-“

“She doesn’t give a fuck about me, why would she help?”

“If Derek called you his mate and said you were the key to his happiness? She wouldn’t care?”

“Would _yours_?” Stiles asked sharply.

Derek considered it for a moment. Once upon a time, before she’d become greedy and unchecked mental illness had rendered her a danger to his life Laura had loved him. She’d wanted him to be happy and they’d had fun together.

 _Stiles and I definitely shouldn’t have kids. We’re both biologically fucked_.

“Maybe, but… what about Lydia? Do you know how to reach her?”

“Why?”

“You’ve already been subjected to a slew of disgusting smelling alphas. What if you and Lydia could be together? What if her alpha liked that and would, you know, claim you both?”

Stiles cocked his head to one side and Derek waited for the rejection. It sounded like a repulsive request to him. He’d sure as hell never want to share Stiles or be subjected to the attentions of a gross-smelling alpha. It sounded like a horrible idea but might result in Stiles and his children being _safe_. Still, he knew if he were being offered he’d turn it down and spit in the face of whoever suggested it.

“That might work,” Stiles nodded, “I’ll call her after I send you off.”

Derek should have known then that Stiles was planning something. This Stiles and his own were too alike, and his own Stiles wouldn’t have settled so calmly without debating the topic for _at least_ three hours. Instead, they arrived at the ‘clinic’ and Derek was subjected to hours of Stiles drawing lines on the floor, chanting, burning leaves, and generally being distracted. Derek was left behind the desk with the kids, trapped by the mountain ash line for safety’s sake while they played on the computer. They had a ton of educational games on there and Derek was being sucked in by the graphics and monotony. He’d also never known much about volcanoes and it was fascinating.

Scott wandered in around the second hour to tell Derek that he hadn’t found the alpha power near the body and was checking all the kids. He eyed up Malia as he was talking and Derek put a protective arm around her.

“I thought Stiles told you to fuck off since you didn’t pay your bill?”

“And just because you’re fucking him you’re going to stand in the way of our movement?”

“No,” Derek stated, “I’m going to stand in the way of any movement that uses a child as a pawn.”

“I just want her power,” He insisted softly, “There’s no reason to harm her. I can use a transfer spell and I’m sure Stiles would want to do it because it would help him out a _lot_. Like, don’t you want what’s best for him?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Derek asked.

“Well…”

“Because weirdly enough, if I handed you his child _first_ , he’d basically have no choice, right?” Derek glared.

“It’s not like-“

“You’re nothing like my Scott,” Derek stated coldly, “Get out.”

“I-“

“NOW!” Derek roared, letting the alpha power in his voice drive the beta back. It worked. Somehow, somewhere, along the weird continuum that had spawned this private hell, Scott still responded to Derek as his alpha. The betas left and Derek stared after them coldly.

“Good move,” Stiles’ soft voice reached his ears, “I’d have shot you dead if you’d moved to hand her over.”

Derek turned to find Stiles slipping out of the shadows with a gun in his hand, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Stiles replied, sliding it into an ankle holster, “Let’s get you home to your hubby.”

“And then you’ll figure things out here, right?” Derek asked, “Because you can’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” Stiles scoffed, “Stand your pretty self in the center of the symbol and slit your wrist. Dribble the blood around you in a circle and don’t heal too quickly.”

Derek put the toddler down and extracted himself from the clinging preschooler, moving to stand in the middle of the room.

“Why didn’t you think _your_ kids would become an alpha?” Derek asked, “They are Peter’s heirs.”

“Two of them,” Stiles scoffed, “His first kid- that I know of- was born years before mine were. Doesn’t make sense that my baby got the alpha power. Why Malia? Why not Liam? Liam is older! Hell, half the other kids are older! He bred the werewolves first. More likely to give him werewolf heirs.”

“Hale power tends to pass down through the girls,” Derek snorted, “And it doesn’t have to go by age. It goes to who deserves it most unless it’s forcibly taken or transferred. I wasn’t supposed to get it in my reality. I’m the throwback alpha. Stiles basically runs our pack because he’s more cut out for it. I even suggested giving him my power, but…”

“You’re weird as fuck,” Stiles scoffed, “Okay, get ready. This is going to take some serious concentration so close your eyes and don’t faint or anything.”

Derek closed his eyes and listened as Stiles scolded his kids into behaving, telling them what they needed to do and apparently giving each of them something to hold to ‘help’. Derek’s mouth twitched a bit. It was so _sweet_. Stiles changed completely when talking to his kids. His voice went soft and he sounded more like _Derek’s_ Stiles. He stood there in the diagram on the floor and bled and waited while Stiles chanted. When there was a pause he thought for one frantic moment that the next sight he was going to see would be _his_ Stiles. Dead. Derek’s eyes flew open for one frantic last glance and Other Stiles was waiting for that.

“Catch,” He stated.

Derek’s hands flew up and Malia landed in his arms. The boy was shoved against Derek next with a backpack on his shoulders and a bag in his hands. He turned to give his father a shout of terror and then the world tilted, flashed, and his stomach attempted to heave up into his throat. He clutched Malia tightly and groped for the boy with his injured arm as the ground dropped out from beneath him, but both were wrenched away right before he blacked out. He went into the darkness screaming for Stiles’ children.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek awoke in a hospital with a soft beep annoying the hell out of him. He blinked blearily and glanced around himself. He was in a hospital. That was… weird. Derek shifted and glanced down at his body. He was one, massive bruise. He was completely covered in purple swelling and several of his bones were broken all across his body. Derek blinked and tried turning his head, finding that his neck was at least whole. In a massive accident- like an ejection where a vehicle rolled on top of a person- a werewolf that survived would heal vital parts first. That meant organs and vascular first, his spine second, the rest of his bones after, and contusions and minor cuts last. Derek should have died before even getting that far along in his healing judging by how horrifically he’d been injured, but someone had gotten him help fast enough to save his life. That meant that someone had been alive at the scene. That meant it might have been Stiles. Instead of Peter being crushed- with Stiles in his place in this world- perhaps it had been _Derek_ who had been trapped beneath the vehicle. Stiles might be _alive_.

_Or it was all a mad, traumatic brain injury dream._

Derek’s hand twitched. Bones ground together and he finally managed to reach the call button. He pressed it and waited, breathless and in pain, until a nurse came in.

“Awake again?” She sighed, heading for his tubes, “Well, not for long.”

“Wait,” Derek croaked, his voice unrecognizable, “Mate? Alive?”

The woman frowned, “He’ll be returned to his father once you’re well enough to sign the papers.”

Derek’s stomach dropped and he whimpered, “I… I want some of his ashes.”

“Ashes? No, son, he’s _alive_. You don’t remember talking to him? I’ll have the doctor look at you. We should-”

“Then… why?” Derek struggled as a cough spasm sent pain shooting through him. The nurse gave him a sip of water; taking it away before he could do more than wet his tongue, “Why send back?”

The woman frowned, “What do you remember since your accident?”

“Need to t-talk to him,” Derek struggled.

The nurse hesitated, holding the medicine in her hand, “You’re to sleep so you can heal. You nearly died. Twice.”

“Please. _He_ heals me.”

She gave him a sad look and then patted his arm comfortingly before injecting medicine into his IV. Derek slid back into unconsciousness with only a few frustrated croaks as she left him to drift in drugged darkness. When Derek awoke again he had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, only that it was dark outside and he was confused and still in pain. He reached for the call button and fumbled with it for a moment until he could manage a press. When the nurse came in the first words out of his mouth were garbled from disuse. She gave him a sip and he tried again.

“Need to talk to mate.”

“Oh, sweetie,” She soothed, “Don’t give him another chance. You deserve better than that.”

“ _Need_ to talk to mate,” Derek insisted, “Now.”

She hesitated, checked his monitors, and then touched his sleeve rather than pat his actual shoulder, “I’ll ask the doctor in the morning.”

Derek let her knock him out without protest this time and when he woke up the doctor was already in the room and looking him over. Derek tried not to flinch at the sight of a man looking at his naked, damaged body. His instincts were screaming fight or flight, especially while wounded, but he was helpless and the man _was_ there to help.

“Well, Mr. Hale, you’re doing remarkably well for a man who had a truck roll on top of him.”

“Stiles?”

“Yes, your unfaithful mate,” The man grumbled, “We don’t allow confrontations while a patient is in our hospital.”

“No fight,” Derek insisted, accepting water from the nurse who appeared at his side, “We won’t fight. I just need to talk to him. He’s got to be freaking out. Is he here?”

“He was released two days ago,” The doctor replied.

Derek relaxed marginally. Stiles wasn’t badly hurt.

“Please,” Derek pleaded.

The man heaved a sigh of frustration and then nodded to the nurse, “I’ll be staying in the room.”

Derek agreed readily and the phone was brought to him. His chart was studied and the nurse dialed the phone while Derek waited with baited breath.

“Mr. Stilinski-Hale? This is Nurse Bridget from St. Mary’s. Your… husband… is awake and would like to speak with you. I have to warn you that if he becomes distressed again we’ll end the call. Will you speak with him? Yes?”

She sounded surprised on that last word, but Derek was too focused on the phone. His senses were dulled due to his body’s diversion to healing so he couldn’t listen in on the other end of the call. He had nothing to go on until the phone touched his ear and Stiles’ shaky voice called his name.

“Stiles, thank gods,” Derek breathed, “I didn’t-“

“I swear to every god in the sky, I never cheated on you, Derek. I don’t know how those kids got my DNA and someone else’s. I don’t know if it’s Peter or who it is. I don’t know. I swear. If I’d been pregnant you’d have _known_. We fuck practically daily! It’s some weird sci-fi shit, I swear to _gods_ , I’ve never even thought of it. I’ll do anything to stay with you, Derek! Anything! Chastity belt. Manacles. Ankle…cles? What the fuck do you call the ones on your ankles?”

_Oh my gods, it was real!! Fuck!_

“Stiles, shut up,” Derek laughed weakly, “I’m not going to chain you up… well… not unless it’s for mutual fun. I know what happened it’s… it’s a long story. I’m not mad, okay?”

“Y-you’re not? You called me a whore,” Stiles hiccupped, voice soft with misery, “A _filthy_ whore.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Derek soothed, “I was out of my head. I don’t even know what I said or why. I’m the… I’ll tell you later. You mentioned kids?”

“They just showed up in your room a day after you were hurt,” Stiles sobbed, “I don’t know who they are or where they came from. Nobody does. You said they were my daughter with _Peter_ , and freaked out, and called me names, and said we w-weren’t mates.”

“I’m so sorry,” Derek soothed, “You _are_ my mate, but Stiles, I need to know what happened to them. It’s important, baby.”

“They’re with the hosp-hospital,” Stiles sniffled, “They ran a DNA test and they were 99.9% likely to be mine, but only 31% likely to be _yours_. They said that means they’re and a relative of yours, but they can’t be my kids because I’ve never been pregnant!”

“I know,” Derek soothed, “You have to come here and claim them, and then come see me.”

“Not see you first?” Stiles asked, tone suspicious.

“I’ll explain everything, but you _have_ to make sure they’re safe.”

There was silence on the other side and then Stiles softly whispered, “I’m still not even sure I want kids.”

“They’re already here,” Derek replied, “They needs their father.”

“This isn’t fair! They just show up and suddenly we’re responsible?! They could be schizophrenic!”

“Another reason to need their father,” Derek replied.

“I was _never pregnant!”_ Stiles sobbed.

“I know,” Derek replied, “And it’s not your fault, and it’s not fair, but they _need_ you. They need _us_. We can foist them off on Cora and Isaac if you really want to, but I think we’d both regret that.”

Stiles let out a slow, ragged breath, “Okay.”

“I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“Fuck,” Stiles sobbed again, “I never thought I’d hear you say that again. Fucking love you so much.”

Derek nodded to the nurse and she hung up the phone. The doctor was frowning at Derek curiously, but he didn’t argue with him. Most likely he didn’t want to upset Derek if he’d recently nearly died _twice._ Instead he was offered pain medication. Derek asked if it would knock him out again and was told it might make him tired and a bit off, but it shouldn’t put him to sleep.

Derek was tired of hurting emotionally and physically so he agreed and let the soothing numbness wash over him.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles arrived after Derek was truly loopy on medication, the werewolf-compatible medicine leaving him feeling as if he were floating somewhere above his body. He watched Stiles come in with a little girl wrapped around him like an octopus and a prechooler clinging to his arm. He was holding Malia tightly and had a little pink pony dangling from one hand. He kept glancing protectively towards the boy who was staring at Stiles as if he were convinced he’d vanish right before his eyes. Derek smiled fondly and Stiles gave him an unsure smile.

“Derek, we… we can’t _ever_ send them away now. This is only the second time they’ve seen me and they screamed ‘daddy’ and I just… Derek, what do we do?”

Derek smiled softly, “You’ll make a better daddy than Other Stiles. He was too traumatized.”

“Other St… I knew it. I have a twin! Who Peter… ew… Why didn’t you tell me sooner and where is he? Why isn’t he taking care of his kids?”

“Gave them to me. Scared of… the doppelgangers.”

“Doppelgangers?!” Stiles’ eyes were wide, “So he’s… he’s not coming back?”

“Uh-uh,” Derek replied, “Don’t know the spell. He’s gone and you’re a mommy now.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, expression grave as he held the toddler against himself, “I’m their mommy now. Are you their daddy?”

“Am now,” Derek shrugged slightly.

“Okay. Right. I’m soooo glad my mother is in a hospital because I’m going to kill her.”

“What for?” Derek asked.

“For not telling me I have _another_ brother.”

“No, no, no,” Derek shook his head weakly, “She doesn’t know. Other Stiles’ mom is your dad and his dad is Scott’s dad.”

“Rafe McCall and my… dad?” Stiles asked in complete confusion.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded weakly.

“They’re both alphas and Rafe is an asshole.”

“You have _no idea_ ,” Derek whispered.

“You’re high on pain meds, aren’t you?”

“So high,” Derek agreed.

“I guess I’ll wait until you’re off to find out what you’re talking about.”

“M’kay, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Stiles gave him a sad look, “I want to kiss you, but your one big, giant bruise and… well… I mean, you can’t exactly consent and the last time I saw you we were fighting so…”

“I’m sorry,” Derek sobered, tears starting up, “I crashed Roscoe.”

Stiles winced, “I… I crashed him.”

“No it was me. I crashed Roscoe.”

“No, Derek,” Stiles groaned, “I told you to turn in. You were tired and said you didn’t think you could drive. I was within my limits but I was tired, too. I drank two cups of coffee but… you know… ADHD. The coffee made me _more_ tired. I fell asleep at the wheel and you went through the window and… they said you hit a tree and then the truck hit the tree. You were pinned.”

Stiles was sobbing brokenly, holding his child tightly in his arms while Derek stared at him, disoriented and unsure as to why he was crying.

“You weren’t hurt?” Derek asked.

“You were pinned to the tree,” Stiles sobbed, holding the child tightly as she began to cry, “And you just kept pushing me away and asking for Peter. You called me a whore and told me to d-die.”

Derek muttered, “It wasn’t me. It was Dark Derek.”

“I thought I was suicidal as a teen, but that… Derek…”

“Love you,” Derek slurred, “C’mere. My mate.”

Stiles stepped closer and Derek weakly held his hand while Stiles found a seat so he could free a hand to blow his nose.

“I can’t believe I’m sloppy crying. Way to win you back, huh?”

“Always yours,” Derek insisted, “Always. In every universe. I’m so sorry, Stiles. So sorry.”

“None of this is your fault,” Stiles hiccupped.

“Betrayed you,” Derek replied softly, “I had to do him. He made me. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I’m a fucking whore again.”

“Derek the kids… wait… what? No, baby, that’s all over. You’re not there anymore. Just… sleep, Derek. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re not a lot lizard. You never will be again. You’re my mate and I love you.”

Derek closed his eyes as tears escaped. He knew he was going to have to level with Stiles once the world stopped floating around him and that there was forgiveness to find. Perhaps his own. Perhaps Stiles’. Either way, he was going to need to heal for a long time from more than just physical injuries, and while it was beautiful to have Stiles’ children it was going to put as big a strain on their relationship as his ‘unfaithfulness’ would. He just hoped that Stiles stayed his beautiful, brilliant, amazing mate throughout the rest of their journey together.


End file.
